The noble-minded are calm and steady. Little people are forever fussing and fretting. A great saying by Confucius, with which I can identify very well. I found proof to sustain it several times during the thirty-one years I have spent on this planet. I even witnessed yet another piece of evidence right before my eyes that made my mind jump to where this saying was stored in my chaotic brain. I mean, I certainly was in no position to consider myself superior to others. Hell, I wasn't qualified at all to be considered noble-minded. But when you shed your dignity to shitty EDM and mixed booze, I can't help but think you're indeed a little mind. Sure enough, in this crowded, dim place, there were a lot of little minds. My guest included.

When Seokjin told me that we were going to meet with our new associate at this private nightclub, I didn't really understand the reason for choosing this place. We could have gone somewhere private for dinner. We could have gone straight to business and called it a day. But now, with said partner wrapping his arms around two women who I could swear were at least ten years younger than him, I deciphered the reason for this choice. Park Jimin would not sign a contract and abide by its clauses if he was only served dinner at a posh restaurant. Park Jimin would sign a contract and abide by its clauses if he was served pussy.

No judgment here. Some people are picky about their food. Just because his father was satisfied with a nice meal and a good bottle of whiskey didn't mean he'd be too.

Park Jimin's father, Park Yung-so, was the first person to believe in my vision. When I came to him with nothing but a plan for the future of the entertainment industry that no one believed in and no money to offer, he didn't fixate on my lack of cash. He appreciated the novelty of my ideology. He believed in innovation. Knew that it was necessary to maximize profits and expand the scope to an international level. The man had sent me home with the promise of a callback, which I firmly believed was a friendly way of telling me to fuck off. But when he called at a quarter past eleven at night to arrange a meeting for the next day, the hope I had begun to lose was back.

I had brought Seokjin with me to the arranged meeting. He had the social skills that I lacked. I had the business sense. When we arrived at his office in southern Gangnam, his proposal had already been worked out. I remember looking at the building and promising that one day I would own something bigger. I kept my promise.

His terms were not the kind I couldn't work with. He wanted to be a shareholder — one of the largest after the main board members, which Seokjin and I were to be. We accepted in a heartbeat. Of course we did. The man was investing money; we just had an elaborate plan to take over the entertainment business.

Two years later, we tripled his investment. Five years later, we bought eighty percent of his shares. We left him enough to stay on the board. But when he realized how much he had profited from a business venture he wasn't even counting on, he decided to resign from the board, leaving Seokjin and me as the only major shareholders on the board of members.

Now many would think that Park Yung-su was an angel, considering how much of the story I left out. But make no mistake. In this world, there are no angels. People will either side with you or against you, depending on where they see their profit. I realized this a few months after our agreement when I walked into my office and saw him sitting on my desk, in front of him a plethora of files that I had collected for years in search of a weak point to stab my enemy. Park Yung-su shamelessly went through my safe after receiving the last report on my background. At that time, I didn't even know he was digging for information about me. I would have saved him the trouble if he had told me about his curiosity. I had nothing to hide. But then he said something that made me forget the invasion of privacy he had subjected me to. Hell! He said something that turned our business cooperation into something completely different.

"Glad we share the same interest, Taehyung — the same enemy. You keep giving me reasons to appreciate you day after day. Let's mine them. You're the brains, I'm the brawn."

And that's what we did. Partially, granted, but we took away enough from the Mins to make them feel the pain they inflicted on us.

"If we attach Insire to our brand, you will be the first to benefit from any brand ambassadorship our artists would sign. You know that means exposure. Exposure equals money. I take it you understand what I'm getting at, Jimin."

I let that sink in without adding anything else while I drank my whiskey and looked around to avoid the PDA Jimin was serving us. There was a thing about Jimin. He was a fucking multitasker. He'd be balls deep in someone and would manage to machinate business if someone was eager enough to pitch him a deal while he was busy fucking. He was good at business, I can't deny that. His ethics, however, were questionable.

He licked the salt off a girl's collarbone before gulping down his tequila. And she, the nice hostess that she was, squeezed a lime into his mouth immediately afterward as if on cue. I, on the other hand, felt the discomfort creep under my skin as the palm of another host's hand warmed my thigh so much that I felt the clamminess of her skin penetrating the fabric of my pants. If she would just take her hand away and spare me the distraction  while I dealt  business, I'd consider a quickie in the bathroom. She was pretty enough to make me consider that option, but also touchy enough to shoo the thought away before it could develop. She was doing her job, though, and I'd be damned if I made her uncomfortable or, worse, if her manager caught on to the fact that she wasn't amusing me enough. So I looked at the man guarding the VIP area and instructed him to come to our table.

"This lady is relieved of her duties for tonight." I tossed a bank check on the table, covering what she was expected to bring in for the evening and a little more. Her tip if she stopped with the sweaty hand movement on my thigh. It burned. "Enjoy your drink, sweets. I need to focus on this conversation." I told her.

"Forever the charmer, Taehyung," Jimin quipped. "If only you could relax a little."

"Better wrap up this deal soon. The lady's waiting," I said, raising my glass in a mock toast.

"Understandable." He clinked his glass with mine and leaned his head against the leather couch. "But what's in it for you from this merger?"

"Not much. Models. I'll manage the models."

He shot up from his relaxed position and propped his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows locked with his hairline as his eyes bulged in disbelief. "That's all?"

"That's all."

That wasn't all at all. But he didn't need to know everything. If I had access to a modeling agency, it would be so easy to inject my little joker card into the industry. Yes, I was taking such lengths, even if she never called. It had been three weeks since I'd left her my business card, but she was still radio silent. Why would I go this far for something I wasn't sure was going to happen? Well, because I was going to make sure it happened. I was making sure it happened.

"Tell me the truth, Taehyung. What's the scope? Why do you need the upper hand over my models?"

I poured a glass of champagne for the lady next to me and tilted my head to look at Jimin, who was still wearing the expression of disbelief. "The idea is to scout talented people and use their fame to break them into other fields. I'm interested in the cinematic domain. So maybe acting? Not sure; definitely something along those lines in all cases."

"What about the profit?" Jimin asked.

"Forty-sixty. I'll do the hard work after all."

Jimin finally wore off that stupid expression of disbelief, leaned against the couch, and raised his glass again. "Just because you're my dad's favorite person. Let's sign tomorrow. I'll shake your hand then. Now my hand reeks of pussy. Gotta excuse me."

"You're excused."

The man I had ushered earlier stepped into the VIP area and bowed before opening his mouth to explain why he had to interrupt an ongoing conversation. "Mr. Kim Taehyung, we will replace your lady with someone with better ethics. Follow me, Jess."

Alright, the name of sweaty palms here was Jess. I looked at the man and asked, "And why is that?"

"Breach of professional ethics. You were seen pouring drinks. That's supposed to be her job. Now, if you allow me."

I didn't mind her leaving for the rest of the evening. But I didn't want her to get fired or get told off for something I'd done. "Of course. But if I found out this lady was fired, I would withdraw my membership. Tell this to your manager. Word per word. I paid for her work and left a tip, too. I want her sent to her house and you will call her a cab. Am I understood?"

He hesitated for a split second but then came his reply. "Crystal clear."

"You invest your energy into the smallest things, Tae. It must be exhausting." Jimin said as the girl left the section with the supervisor. I wanted to tell him that no one had asked for his opinion, but I kept that to myself. I didn't need to waste my energy on him. He wasn't a struggling woman who had to make ends meet by any means necessary.

"You think you can just turn idols into Oscar winners, Tae? If it was that easy, the big boys would've cashed in long ago. What makes you so different? People don't like it when different things stem from the same source. Idols have their fandoms, so do actors, and those are very far apart."

"I give them the stars without even going up there myself, and mine kind of shine brighter than the real ones. It's all about how you show it off. Seriously, check out the strategical marketing of French wines — you'll pick up a thing or two."

Seokjin stepped in, ever so collected and fashionable, even in his tardiness. For once, I didn't need his diplomacy to close a deal. Jimin wasn't the type to need that kind of shit anyway. He was rough around the edges and liked it when people didn't wear masks of morality. I would have liked it better if other businessmen had been like him.

"Am I so late that you're already in the champagne phase?" Seokjin quipped, a mischievous grin playing around his lips. "Even in the happy ending phase." He let his gaze wander over Jimin and the women in his embrace, smirking.

"Excuse us for not following the typical order of things. Gotta adopt variety in this developed age, don't you agree?" Jimin quipped.

Seokjin sat down on the couch opposite Jimin, to my right, and gestured to one of Jimin's girls to pour him a drink. "So now that we have an agreement, I take it that we can sign right away, right?"

I gave Seokjin a look that meant to say a very clear, 'Does it seem like a setting for signing merger contracts?' as I downed the rest of my whiskey. But as I put the glass down on the table and looked towards the entrance of the VIP section we were in, the look I'd given him failed to translate into audible words. They say that when you chase something, be it success, wealth, love or even happiness, it runs as far away as possible and only shows itself when you put an end to the game of chase. I would like to correct this very misleading information right now that I have proof to argue against it. I haven't stopped chasing my joker card for a second since I knew of its existence. Hell! This meeting was more about her than it was about profit. I might not gain a single penny out of it. And yet, the universe made it so that she was led right to my table by the attendant in the VIP section.

My eyes zeroed in on her. She was wearing a beige bodycon dress that was shorter than the night you had to get up at six and somehow manage to stay awake until two. Strapless and studded with crystals that were as fake as the supervisor's grin. If I'd been a man of facial expressions, my eyes would have bulged at the realization that washed over me. She was the replacement for Jess. Fuck! I didn't want to meet her now. Not like this. This wasn't supposed to be the impression I wanted her to get of me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Mr. Kim Taehyung, Inaya will be your hostess tonight." The attendant announced and I wished I could tear my gaze away from her because I really didn't know how I was looking at her. Surely my eyes betrayed my surprise. It wasn't a good thing. I needed to school my expression. Needed it to look nonchalant. Fuck! I couldn't. I wasn't a man who liked surprises and unplanned events. This was extremely unplanned. Her working here had definitely flew under my radar. Fucking Yoon Chul had failed to report this on time.

Seokjin looked at me with questioning eyes. His gaze was subtle enough not to be noticed by Jimin or my joker card as she settled right next to me, but I knew exactly what was going through his mind. He thought I was planning to use her this way —to humiliate Yoongi in this cheap way. I would never do such a petty thing. Not because I cared about Yoongi. To hell with that motherfucker. Or because I wasn't willing to soil myself with stinking filth. No, it wasn't about that. I was already guilty enough for sorting to use an innocent woman in an evil vengeance. What I was about to do would hurt her enough, but my plans never included the use of her body and the shame that selling it would bring upon her. Not even someone so close to Yoongi deserved something as evil as this.

"Great customer service," Jimin said with a grin, eyeing my joker card eagerly. "Much better than a refund."

I noticed her trembling fingers as she held the bottle and poured me a glass of liquor after carefully placing three ice cubes in the tumbler. She was a novice. I could tell. That meant she preferred the discomfort of being sold to men instead of accepting my offer. That was bad. Lots of variations and I wasn't informed of anything. I needed to call Chul to be briefed about this situation asap, but before I could reach for my phone, little joker card held my hand and pressed the glass into my palm. Her touch was icy. Freezing. And I needed to patch this situation up before she formed an image of me that would make her flee as far away from me as possible. I needed her to stick around, not drift away. I needed her trust, not her wariness. Looking like a pussy seeker wouldn't help me reach those.

"You don't need to serve me alcohol or anything else, for that matter," I said, redeeming her attention. She looked me dead in the eye for the first time since she had appeared out of nowhere. And then I saw it. The look of inconspicuousness. She didn't remember me. I had to strike now. "All you have to do is tell me why you chose this route instead of the safe and reputable—not to mention profitable—option I offered you, and I'll call that man back, write you a nice check, and send you on your merry way."

She seemed to be rummaging through her memories, trying to piece my voice and my image together with a frown marring her face. I ignored Jimin and Seokjin's stares, who were watching the scene with great interest, but I was conscious enough not to spill any more beads that might alert Jimin to my intentions, so I stood up, picked up my vest, and kept my words scrambled. "I will be out for a smoke. Come to me when you have your answer."

I dialed Chul's number as I climbed the stairs to the rooftop, and his voice promptly rang out on the other side of the line.

"Boss!"

"Why wasn't I informed about Inaya Chen's new job?"

"I didn't know until I followed her to the club tonight. It's her first shift. I called you as soon as I saw her enter the Wing, but you didn't pick up"

"I hired you, trusting that you were ahead of the game. If you can't anticipate shit before it happens, I don't see how useful you are to me. I need to know exactly what made her take this job. I doubt her boyfriend would have allowed it. So gather all the information you can within an hour and let me know in detail."

I hung up the phone and sank into deep thoughts. If Min Yoongi allowed his woman to work as a bottle girl, it meant that she didn't mean much to him, which contradicted all the information I had gathered over a year, and would also mean that she was useless to me. But that seemed impossible. He seemed to be head over heels for this woman. He would do things I never thought he had the balls for just to give her as much comfort as he could. There was a missing piece here, and it would materialize only if Chul hurried the fuck up with the report I'd requested.

I threw away the stub of my cigarette and reached for a new one to light. I had to buy time. I couldn't go back there unprepared. I exhaled a perturbed sigh filled with tar when I heard heels clicking against the pavement. The steps sounded hesitant, somehow wary, just like she had looked earlier when entering the VIP section. I refused to turn my head and look at the person who had barged in. She came too soon. Fuck.

"I thought you were a conman," she said, her voice wavering between shaky confidence and guilt. Probably already second-guessing herself. She didn't seem like the type to get a kick out of offending someone— more like someone who'd bend over backward to avoid it.

"I gave you my business card," I replied, still refusing to look in her direction.

"I thought the kind of modeling you suggested was the kind I wouldn't want to be a part of."

This time, I turned and looked at her. It was her voice that elicited this reaction. Strong and indecisive and doubtful all at the same time. "And this business you can handle?" I ushered with open palms to our general surroundings for emphasis with a suggestive look.

Something shone in her eyes that was reminiscent of anger and pride. Those molten browns burned and spewed flames that I didn't fear, but in some ways, liked. I liked people with backbone, and she had one, all right. She straightened her posture despite the discomfort those high heels caused her and hissed, "I'd serve alcohol. Nothing more. Nothing less. I have a man I will never berate his honor, no matter how much you offer or how much they offer."

"In either case," I began as I walked toward her with a subtle grin that I doubted reached my eyes, "I seem to be the only one doing the offering. Be it here or at a reputable agency."

"I need time to think about it," she said, eyes level with mine now that the heels gained her four inches to almost be at my height. There was hesitation there. I wanted to wipe it off. A byproduct of never being offered the easy way out, no doubt. "I don't have any knowledge about this business."

I stubbed out my cigarette and moved closer to her—very close, I could see the glitter of her makeup and each freckle. "Take your time and use Google this time to find information about a person if you know their name. It's a rich source that can enlighten you about people and the dangers of nightclubs. You have my number; call me before I find another person who's actually interested."

The trailer of this book has been thought carefully for reasons that include but are not limited to aesthetic purposes. It's like snippets from the story itself, so I suggest you watch it again and really, like reallyyyy pay attention to the details. You'll thank me later ;)
Votes and comments are appreciated. I mean, if I can be generous with updates, you can be too with support :)
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